Good to see a slave in solitary using her time creatively

Good to see a slave in solitary using her time creatively

It&Amp;Rsquo;S Always The Faces Of The Ones Who Are Next

I Call This The One Bar Prison

You Moved Your Hands From Behind Your Neck. So We&Amp;Rsquo;Re Going To Start Again.

You Are Probably Wondering Why I Have Lit All These Candles. Allow Me To Demonstrate.

I Put Her Like This In The Bathrooms At My Last Party. She Was So Sore By The End Of The Evening, But She Still Had To Clean The Floor With Her Tongue.

They&Amp;Rsquo;Ve Formed A Bond In Suffering, And Think I Haven&Amp;Rsquo;T Noticed. Later I&Amp;Rsquo;Ll Make Them Whip Each Other, And We&Amp;Rsquo;Ll Have Some Properly Bitter Tears.

Soon She&Amp;Rsquo;Ll Be Swollen And Sore Enough For Me To Begin Fucking Her

Soon She Will Be Ready To Beg To Be Pleasing. Not Yet, Though.

She Has A Look Of Defiance That I Like. I Wonder How Long It Will Last. Time To Sing And Dance For Sir.

Slaves Hate Sea Grass Matting. Her Punishment Has Already Begun.

To An Artist, Nothing Is As Exciting As A Blank Canvas And The Prospect Of Painting Something Unimaginable On It.

It Will Be Instructive For The Maid To Watch How Painful Kneeling On Dried Rice Can Be.

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